Stories of Spring
by Immortal x Snow
Summary: It's spring at long last, Now that time has passed - And begins the next round, Of games to all confound. Beatrice x Battler spring-themed drabble collection. Sort of a sequel to Winter Frolics.
1. Of Fiore and Loneliness

**Dude to the results of my poll... XD (Fine, fine, I was going to do it anyway. XD)**

**This is how it's gonna work. Ten drabbles between today (Monday here) and Friday (the vernal equinox). So I'll write one in the morning and one in the evening to keep it even. ^_^ While still trying to write PMC to keep everyone happy.  
**

* * *

"It's spring already?"

Battler scowls in disbelief - time passes far too quickly for him. It seems almost as though winter were everlasting and eternal, as though spring were just something far off and neglected. Certainly, he does not usually like winter, but the velocity of time has once more surprised him with the sudden arrival of spring.

"Of course it's not spring yet!"

Battler's attention is drawn away from the window to Beatrice, whose interjection has confused him.

"The vernal equinox hasn't occurred yet, idiot. That's when it'll be spring 'already.'" She quips pointedly and with amusement at his mistake.

"Okay, fine, so it's not exactly spring_ yet_," Battler sighs, vexed. "But it certainly looks like spring out there."

Rising from her chair, Beatrice comes to stand beside Battler, following his gaze to the vibrant outside world. Slightly taken aback by what is spread before her, she catches her breath, allowing a slight gasp to escape her lips.

Flowers.

After being buried in the deep snows of winter in which Beatrice and Battler frolicked together, flowers of all kinds are daring to peer above the ground. Whether or not they did not show their faces earlier because of the fights taking place above them or merely because of the cold is indeterminable, but that does not matter now. Colors of all kinds form a medley of rainbows, splashes and randomly-placed-but-beautiful splotches of color, and a scene like that of a famous, old painting.

With her very vexing and taunting demeanor, even with the subtleties of innocence and happiness underneath, Battler would never have imagined Beatrice to be the kind of person who was fascinated by something as ostensibly trivial as _flowers_; however, he soon finds that he has been fooled. Again.

"Hey, what are you -" He yells out in surprise as Beatrice grabs the sleeve of his suit and starts dragging him along with her.

"We're picking flowers, Battler!" She replies, laughing at his all-too-easily-dominated nature and irritated look painted across his countenance.

"But why?"

"You're such a _man_, Ushiromiya Battler~."

Now annoyed further by the insult directed at his sex, Battler mutters, "I may be a man, but I have far more sense than you do. Clearly."

She ignores this aside-like comment and continues to pull him behind her.

_If only I remembered where I had put that leash..._

* * *

Once outside in the kingdom of the flowers, Beatrice lets go of her grip on Battler and bends down to look at a little flower struggling to grow all by itself.

"It's lonely..." She murmurs, surprising Battler with her tenderness toward it.

_It's not like I haven't seen this side of her before, but this is so unlike her... Especially toward a flower, of all things._

Carefully, she plucks it from the ground and scrutinizes it, her face betraying the plethora of thoughts drowning her mind.

_What could she be thinking of now?_ Battler wonders, nonplussed. He knows that she's thought of some strange things before - most of which are plots in which he plays the role of the victim and she the masterful, dominatrix-like figure -, but these thoughts are... Melancholy?

"Beato?"

"It's lonely, just like I was." She whispers to no one in particular, stroking the weak leaves of the forgotten, weak flower.

_Lonely... She was lonely. _Was_. Why isn't she now?_

Because he is with her.

"Hey, Beato," Battler says, looking at the limp petals of the little flower. "The best cure for loneliness is togetherness and love, isn't it?"

"...Yes, why?"

_It is the best cure: that's why I'm no longer lonely._

Because she has him.

"Maybe the same is true for the flower." He gently takes it from her fingers. "We can keep it inside in water; maybe that will help."

And once more, Beatrice is reminded of how she overcame her own loneliness:_ through him and with him._

But she soon brings the situation back to reality and announces cheerily, "I'm going to name it Fiore!"

"Who the hell names flowers?!" Battler demands, exasperated.

"Who the hell _doesn't_?"

And the two argue all the way back inside, still clutching the symbol of their happiness tightly.


	2. Rain and Imaginary Cookies

**To my French sub: if you're reading this, hiiiiii! XD**

**Or _salut_ or something. XD**

**Anyone who gets the Fiore joke gets major points.  
**

* * *

After putting the flower - er, Fiore - in a vase full of water near the window, Battler returns outside with Beatrice, who is trying to conceal her worry about the little plant. Once she sees Battler's wordless message that Fiore is all right, however, she directs her attention to the bright sunlight - or at least, what used to be the bright sunshine, for now dark clouds are gathering in the sky.

"Rain." Says Battler. "Let's go inside; I don't want you to - I mean, I don't want to get drenched."

When she turns to face him again, he expects her to comply; however, her expression is one of amusement and defiance.

"Why not, Battler-kun~? Isn't it fun getting wet in the rain~?" Making it clear that she has no desire to return indoors and do something there, she smirks. That, of course, would be too dull!

"Well, fine then. You have fun getting yourself soaked and then complaining to me when you're freezing cold."

"Whoever said that you're going inside?" She grins wider, her expression feline.

"I did."

He should know by now that such statements are useless, however.

"But you're being overruled."

The first drops of rain begin to fall as Battler rolls his eyes and decides to stay outside. Always being a person who liked water, Battler loves the rain; his current issue with it is being with Beatrice in the rain. As he remembers from their adventures and games in the snow, the witch can manipulate precipitation to her own extents. In the case of snow, it was snowball fights; with rain, possibly mud...?

Small at first is the shower, before it swiftly turns to a heavy downpour. But Beatrice simply sits down in the grass and tilts her head upward, letting the rain kiss her face and fall like cascades of water from a waterfall down her cheeks, ere dripping down her chin and onto the ground. Upon its reaching the ground, it forms jewelry on the flowers: necklaces of watery beads, tiaras of crystalline diamonds. Battler, however, remains standing, and notices when Beatrice begins to tremble slightly.

"Beato, I told you that you were going to get cold out here. Let's go inside before it gets any colder."

"But Battler, I don't want to~!"

Scowling and crossing his arms, Battler tries again. "You're going to catch a cold."

A playful look on her face, Beatrice looks up at Battler.

"I'd willingly catch a cold if it meant that you had to take care of me~."

Finally pushed to his limit, Battler has one last idea that he resolves to try.

"Fine, you can stay out here in the rain; just know that you won't get any of the cookies Ronove is making."

Battler never knew that Beatrice had the ability to run so fast in that dress of hers, even able to trip him skillfully, just to make sure that she will get the cookies first.

_Too bad Ronove isn't actually making cookies..._


	3. In Which Everything is Reversed

**I'm kinda behind, but I have a good excuse. XD; I wasn't feeling very well yesterday, so I thought that I probably shouldn't try to write anything. But I'm feeling a little bit better now.**

* * *

"I'm still going to get you for that!"

"Well, hey, you should thank me. I kept you from getting sick from staying out there too long."

Ignoring Beatrice's death-glares from the other side of the room - as well as the bruise on his leg from where Beatrice tripped him earlier -, Battler drums his fingers restlessly on the arm of his chair. Intuition alerts him that something strange is occurring somewhere, keeping him from being able to relax. As he continues to drum his fingers and scuff one foot around on the floor, he continues to attempt identification of just what this disturbance is.

_Maybe Beato is planning something again? Perchance someone is lurking in the room - Ronove or one of the Stakes, probably?_

No matter what is lurking in his future, something is not right - some bad event is waiting to strike like a violent animal. Unable to decide which is the more easily suffered - waiting for the disaster to attack or knowing that it will -, Battler sneaks glances at Beatrice, wondering if he will be able to discover the cause of his intuition's warnings by watching her.

That he has succumbed to fallacy is not evident until he hears it.

"It" being the vociferous _boom_ of loud, earthquake-like thunder, of course.

Two sounds there are in the room after this loud sound. One is a loud squeak of fear; the other, a sound of excitement.

"So," Battler chuckles, identifying from whom which sound came, "Beato. I suppose you don't exactly like thunderstorms very much, now do you?"

Slowly turning her head, Beatrice shoots Battler a look that is very different from the one he envisaged. The one he imagined had been plagued by fear; the real one, marked by extreme excitement and... Amused bemusement?

"Battler... You're the one who made that squeaking sound?"

"Huh?" Battler laughs. "What are you saying? Of course that wasn't me!"

_Wait. That _was _her, wasn't it...?_

An evil smirk stretches across Beatrice's face.

"Oh, I get it now. You're so afraid that you're not even recognizing what you're doing! Ha!"

Because he has mistakenly attributed fear of storms to Beatrice, Battler has not noticed that he is the one, in fact, who is making sounds of fear and, on the floor, backing away slowly from the window.

_Thunder... That means storms!_

Beatrice comes to stand over him, a taunting glint in her eye.

"I understand. You just wanted to come inside because you're afraid of thunderstorms, aren't you?" She giggles. "I would never have expected that from you, Ushiromiya Battler~!"

Thunder growls menacingly from the dark clouds towering outside, as though punctuating Beatrice's statement and her vexing movements. As though encouraged by this, she gets on the floor and crawls toward Battler, who is moving away from the window rapidly.

"B-Beato..."

Lightning flashes dangerously outside, making Battler shiver slightly. Whether such fear comes from Beatrice, continuously edging closer, or the thunder is undecidable; however, he thinks he'd really rather be outside with the thunderstorm than at Beatrice's mercy.

"Aww, why're you so afraid of me, Battler~?" She laughs, placing her hand over his. "Do you really think that I'd do something to you~?"

"I-I'm not afraid!" He denies. "I love storms!"

More flashes of lightning illuminate the terror on Battler's face.

Summoning her pipe, Beatrice lifts Battler's chin with it, laughing at him.

"Isn't that cute?" She remarks, a mixture of amused sarcasm and real emotions in her voice. "To think that _you, _of all people, would be afraid of a simple storm..."

"I said that I'm not afraid!"

"Your face certainly betrays otherwise."

Allowing her pipe to disappear again, Beatrice begins to toy with Battler's hair.

"Admit it," she challenges, ignoring his attempts to untangle her fingers. "You're afraid."

"I've already said that I'm not afraid! What part of that can't you -"

"Ushiromiya Battler is afraid of thunderstorms."

Beatrice grins cheerily at the red text swirling around the room.

"Care to say that again, Battleeeeer~?" She grins wider, looking very much like a cat that has cornered its prey.

"...And what does it matter if I am?" He acquiesces angrily.

"It's so funny!" She laughs. "And I thought that it was always supposed to be the girl who's afraid!"

Sitting down on the floor beside him, Beatrice pulls Battler into her lap, petting his hair.

"Hey, what are -"

"You don't have to be afraid," she says. "It'll be over soon."

Startled by Beatrice's sudden change in mood, Battler finds himself relaxing against her tantalizingly warm body and soft skin.

"Er... Thanks, Beato." He mutters, abashed.

And she, smiling gently, continues to hold him tightly through the thunder, the lightning, through the rain and howling winds, stroking his hair every time she feels him grow tense.

...Because, after all, this will make perfect blackmail one day.


	4. Resurrection after the Rain

**Sorry that this is short. =_= I'm trying to catch up.**

* * *

The next morning, the rain has disappeared to water another place, and the sun has dared to peer once more out behind its towering shield of clouds.

All is quiet as the two stand outside together in the warm spring - or nearly-spring, as Beatrice would correct - air, breathing in the delicious, crisp scent of the world after a thunderstorm. Making the mistake of standing beneath a tree, Battler blinks in surprise as water drips off a leaf and into his eye. Noticing this, Beatrice giggles and looks at the little water-diamonds ornamenting the green leaves of the tree, which are just now daring to peer out after the cold winter. Little white flowers sprout from the leaves, adding more little decorations to the already beautiful tree.

_Spring... The season of rebirth, _she thinks, looking around at everything around her: the now green, well-watered grass; the other trees, also having small flowers budding with the leaves; and the other small flowers, some like Fiore, but most very different, for no two flowers are exactly alike. Some are sunny yellow; others, innocent white; still others, almost as blue as Battler's eyes.

_Almost as blue as his eyes..._

If spring is the time of rebirth and newness._.._

_I wonder..._

Upon managing to blink the water out of his eye, Battler finds Beatrice staring at him with a thoughtful expression on her face.

"What are you doing? We only came out here to make sure nothing got hit by the lightning last night."

"Nothing." She mutters, following Battler back inside.

_But if spring is a season of newness... Who says that we aren't new, too? That maybe something is different - happier - between us now...?_


	5. Racing Gone Wrong Part One

"Finally! It's warm outside again!"

After another few days of cold rain and harsh winds, it appears as though the sun has finally decided to remain in the now-clear sky for a time. Preferring warmth to the cold, Beatrice is enthralled by the change in weather; Battler, on the other hand, does not enjoy it at all, if only because it means that Beatrice has an excuse to drag him outside with her again. Which, of course, she has done. As usual.

As for the effects on Fiore, it has begun to look much healthier: its leaves are greener, its petals brighter. Perhaps this is because of the sunlight streaming in through the windows; maybe it is because of the new environment into which it has been placed: that is, one full of that which it had previously lacked.

An atmosphere of love -

"Battler! Get back here with that, before I tell Ronove that you're afraid of thunderstorms! You have no idea what he'll do then! Or even -"

- Or maybe it really is just the sun working scientific marvels.

Because the spring sun and its bright light are capable of creating miracles. Miracles of birth, miracles of resurrection - miracles of love.

And even miracles that make it possible for Beatrice to halt while pursuing Battler and the stolen basket of cookies, while she feels the warmth of the sun and the zephyr playing with her hair and looks at the way the sunshine makes Battler look so different... So handsome...

But the reverie is broken when Beatrice chases after him again, refusing to lose the race that is about to ensue...

* * *

**At the risk of sounding cheesy - to be continued. **

**XD;  
**


	6. Racing Gone Wrong Part Two

**Please excuse the fact that random "h's" might be missing. My keyboard is spazzing on me. And I've wanted to write this one for a long time, so I hope it turned out all right~  
**

* * *

Sunshine and all other beautiful features of spring aside, she still has one goal in mind. One thing that she must do, one thing that must occur. And that is retrieving the cookies that are rightfully _hers_, not his.

"Battler, get back here!" Beatrice growls, picking up the skirts of her dress so as to be able to run after the vexing man faster and more easily.

"Only if you can catch me!" He taunts, annoying Beatrice by waving the basket of cookies above his head.

"So, this is a race, huh?" Beatrice grins at his back. "I remember what happened the last time we raced; I beat you by far!"

Having a highly selective memory, Beatrice "accidentally" forgets to recall that in their last race, she had a head-start, while in this one, Battler possesses the advantage.

_Does he really think that he can outrun me? Ha! What a joke!_

On the other hand, Battler too is confident that he will not be caught. Even though he may have witnessed just how fast Beatrice is capable of running in that long dress of hers, he knows that he has the advantage, as well as how to utilize it to his ultimate benefit.

And so, equally motivated, the two continue to run through the fields, the sun beating down on their backs and the wind tearing at their hair.

As a few minutes of quick running and swift pursuit pass, they both find themselves becoming increasingly fatigued, and Battler lags back just enough for Beatrice to seize the opportunity to catch up to him and grab his wrist.

"Haha! What was that about catching you?"

Smirking triumphantly, Beatrice pushes him as hard as she can; Battler barely recovers fast enough to stop himself from falling into the puddle on his right.

"Hey! I never said pushing was allowed!"

"Of course! You never said that it _wasn't_ allowed, now did you, Battler~?"

"So, is that how you wanna play this game? Bring it on, then!"

Forcing himself against Beatrice, Battler pushes against her, trying to make her fall; however, she too attempts this, and the pressure is equal on both sides. Neither one will fall easily using this tactic; therefore, Beatrice decides that it is time she plays her dominating role.

And thus, she sticks out her foot and... Trips him. Again.

Grinning mockingly at his sprawled out form in the puddle, Beatrice taunts, "C'mon, Battleeeer! It's not the first time I've done that! I'd think that you'd expect it by now -"

A splash of water in her face cuts her off.

"Wha -"

"C'mon, Beatoooo! It's not the first time I've done that! I'd think that you'd expect it by now!"

"You!" Clenching her fists, Beatrice gets in the puddle with Battler, splashing him with water and tackling him to the ground, pinning him beneath her.

"This is what happens when you try to beat me in a race, push me over, and then splash me with puddle water. Admit it: you've lost!" She laughs evilly.

_If this is what happens when I lose to her... _Battler thinks as he looks up at the witch he loves so much. _Then maybe I should let her win more often._


	7. Daylight Savings Time and What It Can Do

Sleep.

It's what she loves the most - or at least, nearly the most - and wants nearly all the time. Even though she often seems to get very little of it, Beatrice can become very violent very quickly whenever her slumber is disturbed.

Ergo, it's only natural that she becomes very irritable at that one little thing that comes during spring: that strange thing involving time that everyone seems to hate. That dreaded thing that can even kill people.

Daylight savings time.

The time when everyone loses one beautiful, precious, restful hour of sleep.

And for Beatrice, the effects are detrimental, to say the least.

The morning of the dreaded hour-long gap in time, she forces herself awake and, after spending a long time trying to keep herself awake, ventures out to go eat breakfast.

However, she does not count on finding Battler very awake and cheerful, despite his being more of a night owl than a morning person. Annoyed by this, Beatrice falls into an even worse mood as she watches Battler's odd wakefulness allow him to avoid yelling at inanimate objects, as she had done earlier.

"Why so tired, Beato?" Battler asks between huge mouthfuls of croissant.

"It's daylight savings time, of course," she growls. "Everyone lost an hour of sleep last night -"

"I didn't." He grins.

"And just how did you do that?"

"I went to bed early and got an extra hour of sleep to make up for it."

Yes, it is times such as these when Beatrice really wonders why she bothers to put up with him and the way he can sometimes make her look so amazingly stupid.

* * *

**Er, I'm not sure if DST is in spring for everyone, but whatever. I'm starting not to care anymore - I think I'm too sick to think properly.**


	8. Warmth in the Pouring Rain

"It's raining. Again."

"Yeah, and you never know! There might be a possibility of _thunderstorms_!"

Beatrice laughs at the memory of Battler and his fear of thunderstorms, making him glare at her in annoyance.

"Yeah, and you never know! There might be a possibility of your not bringing that up anymore," he mutters, parodying Beatrice's earlier statement.

"Don't be so certain of that happening." She smirks. "I'm going out in the rain; you'll have to come out if you want comfort should there be more thunderstorms~!"

Laughing, she walks out into the mist and light rain, and Battler has to fight the temptation to lock the door so that she cannot come back in. However, the thought of her catching a cold or contracting some other illness out in the rain is enough to make him resist this tempting thought and find something else to do.

But before long, his conscience tugs at him again when he notices that Beatrice did not take an umbrella out into the rain with her.

_Honestly, that idiot... _Battler sighs. _Does she really _want_ to get that wet, or is she really just that absent-minded sometimes...?_

That she was previously teasing him about his phobia of thunderstorms, however, makes him wonder if he really should show mercy and give her an umbrella.

_Maybe it's just what she deserves for treating me that way. Karma, right?_

Restless is his imagination in opposition, conjuring up images of Beatrice soaking wet in the rain, shivering due to her lack of an umbrella to shield her from the pouring shower. And Battler is well wary of which side is going to triumph in the end.

Thus, he takes an umbrella outside, opens it, and holds it over her head, almost as though trying to protect her somehow.

And, despite the cold rain that has seeped into her clothes, Beatrice feels warm all over.

* * *

**...Blah. This was very corny\cheesy\whichever kind of food describes it best. =_=**

**At least it's actually raining as I type this. But it's supposed to snow tomorrow (which is when I'll get the final two drabbles up, seeing as my school agenda lied to me, and that's the actual vernal equinox here). XD Only in Kansas, I tell you...  
**


	9. In the Sky

It's like she's flying, as though she is the wind itself.

That it is the first day of spring is a miracle in itself - Beatrice thought it would never come -, but this is another miracle. Because the simplest of pleasures, such as this, are miracles in how they etch themselves into hearts and memories - they are stenciled in wax and covered with permanent marker.

And that's exactly why swinging on this little swing while ordering Battler to push her is a small miracle: it may be trifling and inconsequential, but that is the very beauty of it. Not like summer or winter is spring: the former are glorious seasons, full of warm mornings and beautiful nights, while the latter is more simple. However, that is where the very essence of spring finds itself - it is the quintessence of simple joy.

"Battler!" Beatrice hollers, ascending higher into the late afternoon welkin. "Push me higher!"

Be she capable of propelling herself as high as she desires, she wants to feel his energy in union with hers push her up into the sky.

"Can't you do that yourself?" Battler grumbles, blushing as he pushes Beatrice.

"Aww, but I can see you blushing, Battler~! I know you like touching me; don't you?"

"Right. Sure," he denies, while continuing to push her on the swing.

And as the sun begins to set on the horizon and the air grows cooler, yet all the fresher, she jumps off the swing and flies through the air, wishing that gravity will never bring her down - so long as Battler can be here with her in the sky.

* * *

**I got the inspiration to write this when I was out swinging in my backyard for the first time in years. XD My neighbors looked at me strangely, but it was worth it.**

**...Until I made myself really sick and had to stumble back inside. XD  
**


	10. Tragic Symbolism

"Hey, Beato...?"

She doesn't even need to ask to know what Battler wants to tell her; rather, all she needs to do is simply look and caress the dead flower in her hands.

"Fiore died, huh...?" She whispers, looking at the once-pink-and-now-light-brown, wrinkled, crumbling petals and the dry, withered leaves of Fiore.

"Yeah, looks like it."

Feeling sympathy for her, Battler recalls how much he knew Beatrice loved Fiore, from the moment she first saw it, through the times she cared for it, and even now that it has apparently died.

_She loved it from the beginning because she saw herself in it, didn't she? _Battler thinks as he recalls the day, so close that it is almost as though he can go back and relive it, that Beatrice found the forlorn little flower. _But now that it is dead... What does she think of that? It looks like it saddens her, but... Does she think that one day, she'll be left in her loneliness to die like that, too?_

As Battler thinks his thoughts, Beatrice stares at the flower and thinks her own.

_It was lonely - a symbol of how I was lonely before Battler... I wanted to take care of it, to give it love the way I was given love... But this love killed it in the end? Does this mean that...?_

Battler's hand over hers makes her stop thinking these thoughts temporally, before she murmurs, "Does this mean that I'm going to die because of this, too? Everything that we did together in these past days... Is it going to kill me one day?"

Her eyes sad and downcast, she lets Battler's arms wrap around her and envelop her in a comforting hug.

"How can you say that?" He asks, whispering in her ear. "Be it traversing the same path you did, be it lonely like you and exposed to... Love... The way you were, it means nothing. Two people can be lonely at first, but I'm not going to let you be unhappy like that. Do you understand?"

"...Yes. I do."

And thus, the vernal equinox passes away into the second day of spring, just as the innocent little flower passed away.

* * *

**That... Would be the end of this little drabble collection. ._. Wow. Thank you, thank you, and thank you again to everyone who read this. You guys were what kept me from quitting - I really don't like spring all that much. XD And I was sick for most of the time that I was writing these, so that made it harder. But all of you made me pull through, so thank you so much! (:**


End file.
